Sumpy Rick
by HumanBarricade
Summary: Right after the Season 3 finale, Rick isn't doing so hot, bro. Boy, he's really gone off the deep end...or is about to. You can thank Jerry for this one. T because language and drinking, I guess.
1. Chapter 1

Summer, Morty, and Beth embrace Jerry. Their eyes light up when he comes back into the house. They eat together. Morty and Summer rejoice in having their father back.

After dinner, Jerry reluctantly pulls out his R2D2 coin collection. Beth leans her chin on his shoulder and eyes it. He nervously smiles. She grins and pecks his cheek. Jerry lays his hand over hers on his shoulder. Everything ends on a happy note.

Rick glares at Jerry. He stands in the archway of the dining room, shrouded in shadows. He turns away when his daughter starts kissing that damn idiot he tried so hard to get rid of. Rick storms off into the garage.

Morty turns on his heels when Rick slams open the door.

"Out," Rick growls.

"No, y-you don't own the garage," Morty says, walking up to Rick with his chest puffed out.

"Get. Out," Rick repeats.

He slides his hand under his coat as if he's reaching for a weapon. Morty's confident pose quickly turns into that of a nervous child. Without a second thought, he dashes out of the garage. Rick sighs and closes the door.

His worktable is completely messed up. All of his inventions have been cast aside for the equivalent of a sixth grade level science project. Rick isn't even sure what Morty was trying to make. He doesn't care. Some part of him wants to toss the shitty project off of the table, yet he's not feeling it. What does it matter if he doesn't control the family anymore?

Silvery light from his flask tempts him with the promise of intoxication, a way to forget his problems. From there, everything is a blur, like it always is.

The only surprise is that he wakes up on the garage floor exactly where he started.


	2. Chapter 2

Again, they're happy. Beth and Jerry cuddle on the couch. Morty and Summer are getting along. They're having some mundane conversation, but without their phones. Everyone is beaming. All but him. Rick grits his teeth.

He climbs the stairs quietly, stares into his room, and slumps down into his bed. He's never let himself get too comfortable. It's unproductive to sleep. No adventures happen when one lies in a comfortable mass of sheets. Despite this, he lets himself close his eyes and lean into his pillow.

He wishes he could wither away silently. They'd all forget him anyways. They tell him to shut up, go away, quit talking to Jerry like that, stop going too far, don't tell mom she's a clone, she better not be a clone, don't hurt her either way, fuck off, leave us alone… He expects a "We don't need you" will come soon. Beth's a genius. Morty'll get confident, cocky, and start growing out of his ignorance. What do they need him for?


	3. Chapter 3

Rick stands under the shower water. Tears threaten to escape. He rubs his eyes.

"This is so cliché," he mutters.

He just stands there, arms crossed over his slim body, wondering how long he can get away with before someone knocks on the door or yells at him. He waits. The warm water feels soothing, but it gets old when he starts to prune. He stills waits. He gets sick of being wet. Regardless, he waits some more. Finally, he turns off the water. He peeks out from behind the shower curtain at his phone. Three hours. Nothing.

Groggily, he starts to dry himself off. They all gravitate towards Jerry. What a happy-go-lucky parasite. He's so fucking stupid. He can't hold down a job. He can't provide for himself. He's basically a giant baby feeding off of Beth and their kids.

Rick takes one look at himself in the mirror and sharply turns away. The universe hates smart people. Right at this moment it's attempting to end him. But Jerry? Oh it rewards him for his ignorance. It gave Jerry Beth back, his kids' love, his house, everything. All of it on a silver platter.

"Fuck you, Jerry, you stupid piece of shit," Rick says, tossing Jerry's toothbrush into the toilet.

He thinks about taking a huge dump on it. But he knows Beth would flush it and get Jerry a new one. They're all too damn happy to be affected by it.

After he finishes brooding in the bathroom, Rick heads downstairs for the garage. The house is silent. They probably went out to get ice cream. He rolls his eyes. No wonder they didn't yell at him for sitting in the shower for hours on end.


	4. Chapter 4

Hordes of red, spiny aliens surround a larger yellow one. The yellow one flexes it's muscular hind legs and lets out a yowl. Unimpressed, the red ones advance until the yellow one is pressed into a corner. Rick watches up on a ledge.

"Eyup, I feel you," he sighs, waving around a nondescript bottle of liquor.

He watches the spiny little monsters shoot millions of needles into the yellow beast. It starts to turn a dark green. It's eyes bulge out of its skull. Every muscle swells up until it explodes. Blood and guts spew onto the spiny creatures. They dance around, seeming to vacuum up every morsel left behind by the beast. Rick tilts his head.

"You're all a-a-a bunch of J-Jerrys."

After one last swig, he puts a tiny device into the bottle and tosses it out towards the aliens. They all hiss at it. A huge blinding white explosion fills the cavern. Rick escapes through a portal. He falls onto the concrete floor of the garage. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees hair and parts of his clothes are singed. He groans. Another bottle of alcohol under his work bench catches his eye. He crawls over to it, leans against the leg of table, and starts downing it.


	5. Chapter 5

_Every nerve in Rick's body cries out in agony. He sees Morty standing over him, a gun in his hand._

 _"How long did you think you could hold me back?" Morty asks with a smirk. "_ You're _supposed to be the smart one."_

 _"Ungrateful…little shit…" Rick sputters._

 _He coughs up blood into his hands. They're all cut up. He can't tell the difference between his coughed up blood and the blood from the gaping holes in his palms._

 _"I could end you," Morty says._

 _He drops the gun at Rick's feet. He quickly disappears into a black portal. Rick tries to sit up, but feels his body giving up on him. His vision grows blurry and dark. He wishes Morty would've just done it._

Rick's eyes shoot open. His head lies on his pillow. A pale sheet covers his body. He lets out a soft sigh. A figure near him turns its head.

"Morty?" he breathes.

His throat is so dry. Morty comes into the light and sits down next to Rick. His eyes are distant. He gazes at his weak grandpa and then puts his head in his hands.

"Why can't you just be happy?" Morty asks.

Rick's stomach churns. He'd rather gnaw each of his limbs off while completely sober than be happy about Jerry's return. He tries to sit up, but Morty pushes him down.

"Just rest, okay?" Morty says.

He gives Rick a sad and disappointed look. His hand lingers on Rick's chest. Rick frowns. He smacks Morty's hand away.

"Fuck you," Rick replies in a raspy voice.

Morty glares down at Rick. The two glare at each other for a while.

"Get me some water," Rick says.

Morty grabs a glass off of Rick's nightstand and dumps the water onto Rick's face. Rick grabs at the glass, but Morty stands up and easily avoids him. He looks Rick up and down.

"You deserve this," Morty says, before slamming the door shut.

Rick grips his mattress. He's not sure what to think anymore. The all too familiar feeling of a hangover sets in. He lets the throbbing headache, blurry vision, and discoordination set in. Better that than emptiness.


	6. Chapter 6

His stupid fly-fishing getup sits in a pile on his dresser. He can't look away from it. He shakes his head. This is so stupid. Why is he even considering this?

Rick finds the most remote little stream outside of Seattle. Mosquitoes buzz around him. He douses himself in an orange spray, causing the clouds of blood-suckers to either drop dead or disappear in an instant. He smirks.

He remembers his dad teaching him to fish, although he was never that interested. He was too busy skipping school, inventing cool shit, partying, and exploring the vast universe because Earth was just a glorified sandbox to him. His shaking hands make it difficult to string the line through the eyes on the rod. Sure, he can perform the most precise surgery, but fishing is too complicated. He steadies himself. He manages to get the line all of the way through.

A plethora of flies cling to his hat. He picks off an orange one and ties it onto the line. He knows he could modify the fly beyond recognition to lure every fish within a fifty mile radius to this spot. He could lure every fish in the world if he wanted to. However, he decides to challenge himself. If Jerry and Rick's father could catch fish with this caveman instrument, well, so can he. Probably ten times better.

Maybe fifteen minutes or five hours pass before he gets a bite. Either way, his arm is tired from flicking the line around like a whip and isn't exactly ready for the weight of a fish. He lurches forward, but throws his leg out in front of him. Water splashes up. He yanks back on the rod, pulls up on the line, and ends up flinging the fish into a nearby tree. It flails around under a branch, lure hooked deep into its jaw. Rick looks up at the shimmering rainbow trout. Looks like Jerry and his dad can eat shit.

Just as the sky starts to turn a golden orange, Rick returns home with several fish in a cooler. He lays his rod against the wall by the front door. He catches Beth washing dishes in the kitchen. Just as he opens his mouth, Jerry appears beside him.

"Hey, Rick, look at you. Putting that fishing gear to good use," Jerry says, patting Rick on the back.

Rick glares at Jerry and says, "Don't patronize me."

Beth turns around. She narrows her gaze at Rick and crosses her arms. Rick holds his tongue. As much as he wants to insult Jerry, he'd rather be on good terms with Beth again.

"Never mind," he sighs. He turns to Beth and holds out the cooler. "I got you some fish. Maybe you could cook them up sometime. I don't know."

"Thank you," Beth says, taking the cooler and setting it beside the sink.

Jerry adds, "We were thinking of going to go to Wild Waves tomorrow, before they close for winter."

"We haven't really seen much of you lately," Beth says, holding Jerry's arm.

Rick still can't bear to see them so happy together. This isn't how it's supposed to be. It takes every ounce of his willpower not to pout or give them an unhappy look.

"I…I can't," Rick says, lowering his gaze down to his feet.

"Why not?" Beth asks.

"Maybe next time."

"Promise that you'll come next time."

He nearly smiles hearing that assertive tone in her voice. It's just like his.

"All right," he says. "I promise."


	7. Chapter 7

And of course Rick ends up in the back of the car with the kids. He offered to portal them to wherever they were going, but Beth insisted it be a surprise.

Rick sits behind Beth in the driver's seat. Morty sits behind Jerry. He won't even look in Rick's direction. He seems more content staring out the window. Summer sits between both of them, sporting a maroon sweater. She busily goes between texting her boyfriend, checking Instagram, snapchatting her friends, and pinning all sorts of junk on Pinterest.

Beth and Jerry shamelessly flirt while trying to pick a song on the radio to listen to. They settle for something mellow. Rick shies away when they hold hands. He peers out the window. He can see Morty's reflection in the window. Great. Now they're glaring at each other again. Rick sighs. He looks at the gum stains on the back of Beth's chair. He settles for slumping down in his seat. Summer glances at him. She knees one of his legs away.

"Jeez, grandpa Rick, quit manspreading," she says.

He rolls his eyes and pulls his right leg up to his chest. This used to be Jerry's role, being the punching bag of the family. Rick starts picking off pieces of dirt from his shoe. Maybe Morty's right. He deserves this. He shat on Beth's marriage for so long he convinced her that she hated Jerry. Well, she didn't exactly like the marriage to begin with. He was trying to get her to rip off that infected band aid. Now she's stuck it right back on. He just wanted them to see the truth. To see reason. But they'd rather be blinded by sentiment. By happiness. By love.

Luckily, it isn't long before the Smith family reaches their destination: a cornfield. Wooden painted signs advertise a pumpkin patch, corn maze, haunted house, and more. What a low form of family bonding. Rick holds in a sigh. He promised Beth he'd come. He never promised he'd behave, yet he knows she expects that, too.

Summer immediately goes to get her face painted. Jerry joins her. Meanwhile, Rick follows behind Beth and Morty as they head towards the pumpkin patch. Rick keeps his shoulders close to his ears. There's a slight breeze. He watches the stupid people around him each pick a rotting vegetable to carve into so they can watch it progressively get moldier and smellier as Halloween draws closer. He never understood why they didn't just make a jack-o-lantern out of something more permanent like clay. Then again, he still finds it stupid. They're just dumb decorations associated with pagans who thought sticks and mud were gods or something equally retarded. Not like he paid attention to that part of history, or any part for that matter.

"Dad, do you want to help Morty find a pumpkin?" Beth asks.

"I don't need help," Morty says, stalking off farther towards the larger pumpkins.

"What's gotten into him?"

"Probably hormones or girl troubles," Rick lies.

"You should go talk to him," Beth says. "And Dad, thank you for coming. I know it seems sudden, Jerry and I getting back together, but this is what's best for us. I hope that one day you'll see that."

"Yeah, glad you're happy," Rick forces himself to say, adding a fake smile.

Beth hugs him. He looks off in the distance. She discovers her intelligence and settles for an idiot. Maybe she's not as smart as he thought. At least he could excuse the behavior if she were a clone. He won't dare mention clones, though. Morty will go on another angry rant.

Now he watches Beth walk off with a plump little pumpkin. Rick looks over his shoulder in Morty's direction. The cocky little shit glares at him. Rick sighs. Time to put the brat in his place.


	8. Chapter 8

Morty kneels down near a huge pumpkin. It's a good sized twenty or thirty pounder. He attempts to pick it up, but his upper arm strength is meant for something lighter like a cat. He gets mud all over his yellow hoodie. Rick still struggles to find a reason why anyone would be into this sort of thing. Why muddy rotting pumpkin patches? Isn't that more of a warzone thing than a holiday thing?

"Come to slap me again?" Morty groans.

"Your mom sent me over here," Rick says.

"I don't need your help."

Rick watches Morty struggle with the pumpkin for a good five minutes. He rolls it around, tries to rub mud off with his sleeve, and even attempts to prop it up on his boot.

"This is just the honeymoon phase of their second go at marriage," Rick says, crossing his arms matter-of-factly.

Morty stands up and explodes. "Fuck you! Y-you're a real asshole, Rick. W-w-why can't you j-just let my parents b-be happy? Why can't you be h-happy for them?"

"Because what they have won't last. Am I the only one not wearing rose-colored glasses in this family?" Rick asks, gesturing to himself.

Morty turns away.

"I'm sick of this. My dad i-isn't perfect, but you're n-not either. I'm not asking you to l-like him. J-just accept my mom's d-decision. Sh-she's smart like you, right? She's a-an adult."

He looks back at Rick. Rick pinches the bridge of his nose. Force isn't working. Maybe fear will.

"Ugh, fine! But when this comes crashing down again, don't come crying to me," Rick warns.

"I'd never cry to you," Morty says, looking Rick in the eyes.

Rick picks up Morty's pumpkin, acting unfazed. Morty has come crying to him before, usually as a last resort. He's felt bad for the kid…sometimes. Not like it matters. Emotions are dumb, irrational. That's all any of this is, swirling rivers of stupid chemicals in the brain settling from that whole false-flag clone thing.

He catches Morty writing something down on a notepad.

"What's that? Your emo poetry collection?" he asks.

Morty rolls his eyes.

"You wish."

The two find Beth at a wooden picnic table drawing horse nostrils on her pumpkin. Rick sets Morty's large pumpkin next to hers. She glances at it and smiles up at Rick. Morty sits down, picks up a marker, and starts drawing on his pumpkin.

Rick goes off into the patch to find a pumpkin for himself. May as well. Besides, he has an idea. He finds an oval-shaped pumpkin. He grins. Jerry's going to love this.


	9. Chapter 9

After portaling back home while pretending to go to the restroom, Rick returns with several more advanced carving tools. He sits across from Beth and Morty. First, he puts a graphic overlay of the design he wants on the pumpkin. With the press of a button, it's all carved out. Then, he uses a few chunk for ears, hair, and a nose. Lastly, he adds some gruesome details, like a gooey dead eye and pumpkin seed vomit, to hide the fact that it's Jerry. At least enough so Beth won't notice. He adds some stubble for good measure.

Jerry shows up behind Beth with a tiger design all over his face. He looks like a seven-year-old. Somehow he convinces Beth to go get her face painted too. Rick rolls his eyes and keeps adding details to his stupid vegetable. Morty turns his pumpkin towards Rick. It's a very crude drawing of Rick vomiting. Rick narrows his gaze. He turns around his toward Morty. Morty squints at it.

"What th-the hell is that? D-did you make a-a dead guy or s-something?" Morty asks.

Rick looks over at Jerry, then back at Morty and smirks. Morty's face turns red.

"Wow, so ma-mature," Morty says.

"Oh, like yours i-i-is any less childish."

Morty shoves a knife into the drawn Rick's head.

"Someone's in a mood," Rick says.

He looks off at the corn maze and haunted house.

"Want to p-put that pent up r-r-rage to use and scare some kids a-and teenagers shitless?" he asks Morty.

"That sounds stupid."

"I know you, Morty. Y-you're dying to use that anger. Better yet, here i-it's socially a-acceptable."

Morty flicks a pumpkin seed on the table. He visibly struggles to hold back a grin. He looks up at Rick.

"Fine."

Several teenage girls cling to each other while walking through the corn maze. They jump at every remotely startling noise, including a sneeze from a girl in the middle. Rick and Morty hide behind two corners, two paths the girls could take. All sorts of fake blood, guts, and protruding bones cover them. Morty starts messing with the projector on his writs. He switches his costume to a bloody guy with a chainsaw.

"We agreed on zombies," Rick whispers.

"Changed my mind," Morty mumbles.

"Fine, I'll just be a grotesque squid monster."

"Shh."

Rick quickly changes to a squid. The group of girls hesitates to come around either corner. They nearly split in half from two girls pulling in opposite directions.

"Oh my God, Jenny," one whines.

"Let's just like vote on it," another says.

"Who wants to go down that way? The other way?" the first asks.

Rick does a silent hand-gesture imitation of the girls. Morty shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Rick swears he sees Morty smile, although it's too dark to really tell.

The girls decide on Morty's path. They slowly move down the dark, muddy trail. Morty leaps up, holographic chainsaw in hand, and yells something incoherent. Each girl shrieks. They jump back from him. However, one smacks him with her purse. Then the rest join in, beating on him. He starts screaming as he curls up into a ball. Rick jumps through the corn. He reaches out a tentacle towards each girl. They all group up again and sprint towards the way they came.

Morty groans, "You said this w-would be fun…"

"It was," Rick says. "I told you to s-stick with the zombie."

He offers to help Morty up, but Morty rejects the offer. He stands on his own and starts wiping mud off of himself. Rick watches his grandson's pathetic attempts to clean himself, thinking of many better alternatives, but let's Morty suffer. It's what he asked for after all.

The two return to the pumpkin table and finding Jerry attempting to carve a puppy-dog face. One eye is majorly screwed up and overly cut into, almost like Jerry had no idea how to use a knife. Rick scoffs. Of course he doesn't. His gaze moves to his gruesome pumpkin. Smirking, he slides it in front of Jerry.

"Hey Jerry, what do you think?" Rick asks.

"Is that _me_?!" Jerry replies.

Rick smirks, but puts on a fake-shocked look when Beth's gaze comes his direction.

"No, of course not. It looks nothing like you. See, he's got a beard coming in, missing eye, missing tooth…whoops, knocked that out…I mean, it's just a random dead guy. I'm not obsessed with you, jeez," Rick says.

Jerry folds his arms, but in an uncomfortable, self-conscious manner. Morty shakes his head. Beth pinches the bridge of her nose.

Rick huffs, "What? I can't carve a pumpkin, now? I don't even like doing this!"

"Don't make a scene," Beth says.


End file.
